Skye located the innkeeper across the room. The innkeeper was an obese man who dripped with sweat due to his constant moving in and around tables. When Skye saw him looking in their general direction, he waved his hand. Hauling his large bulk across the room, the man negotiated the tables with an ease that spoke of years of practice. Below the conversation swirling around the open space, the floorboards creaked with each step.
Once the innkeeper hobbled over to their cracked and worn table, he asked, “What can I get you, my lords?”
Nodding his head in Dane’s direction, Skye said, “My friend here would like some of your best ale.”
The man gave a short bow toward Dane before turning to him. “And you, sire?”
“What’s being served tonight?” He’d already eaten at evening meal in the training hall, but the rigor of his sword practice left his stomach grumbling with the beginning signs of hunger.
“Stew, bread, and manoni pie, does that suffice?” Unable to keep still, the man leaned over the table and wiped the table with a browned towel while he waited for Skye’s answer.
“Yes, I’ll take a plate.”
Swiping his filthy apron across his perspiring forehead, the man gave another bow in acknowledgement. The man cocked his head to the side as he looked at Dane, wordlessly asking whether he wanted a plate.
In response to his friend’s small wave, the innkeeper replied, “Give me a moment.” He walked away wiping his hands on his stained apron after tossing the towel over his shoulder.
While they waited for the food and drink to arrive, Skye kept his eyes on the room’s occupants. Not many men played Skulls in the corner. The occurrence was unusual since the game was popular among the seafaring merchants and sailors. The sudden draft of cool air in the heated room had him turning his attention to the entrance. Although he heard the door bang shut behind the newest customer, Skye’s attention didn’t shift from the newcomer.
With his seat facing the door, only Skye noticed the hooded figure entering the room. The cloak set off alarms; the evening wasn’t excessively cold or wet. He studied the cloak for a moment before becoming aware of the tall but slim physique hiding beneath it. When Dane murmured something to him about the food looking better than normal, he ignored him. For reasons he did not understand, Skye felt compelled to watch as the man scanned the room for an empty table.
Dane, realizing something held his attention, twisted his head around. Not seeing anything of note, Dane turned back around and leaned back against the bench, looking over to where their friends played.
Skye watched as the cloaked figure walked to the other side of the room to a table cast in shadows. The table was in the least occupied part of the inn. Without displaying untoward behavior, Skye would have lost interest except for the hood.
He narrowed his eyes. The newcomer refused to lower his hood even when the innkeeper leaned forward. Skye picked up the spoon and bread and began eating. Not taking his eyes off the other person, Skye didn’t taste the food, chewing and swallowing by rote.
His breath caught when the hooded head turned in his direction. Taken by surprise, Skye stopped his fork halfway to his mouth.
For a brief moment as he stared across the room, the firelight flashed across the woman’s gold eyes, lighting them to an almost incandescent shine. They were the same eyes mentioned only in whispers as the mark of evil.
A Kurite. It was the first time he’d met one of the golden-eyed Kurites. Though Kurites were not an unusual sight in a port city, the slaves all had pale blue eyes. The few free Kurites tended to be merchants who traveled to cities in both Pyran and Kureto for trade purposes. The merchants never possessed gold eyes and were never female. Any golden-eyed Kurite found within the borders of Gharra was immediately arrested, imprisoned, and killed. Their use of magic was feared by even the most stoic Pyranni warrior.
Seeing his look of disbelief, Dane asked in a low, urgent voice, “What?”
Pulled from his thoughts, Skye blinked, realizing he was staring. He frowned at making such a novice mistake. A female heathen. A moment passed before he could collect his thoughts.
“The person who just entered the room is a Kurite.” He emphasized his next statement by rapping on the table with his knuckles. “A golden-eyed Kurite. She is one of the cursed.”
He reached across the table and grabbed his friend’s arm, stopping his friend from showing their hand. He hissed, “Do not bring attention to yourself, you fool. That is exactly why she is still wearing the hood.”
Dane sent him a dark look before puzzlement crossed his face. Skye whispered, “I want to know why she’s here. She cannot possibly be a spy. Her eyes would give her away without the hood, and if caught, she’d be killed.”
After Dane took a long swig of his drink, he slammed down the tankard, burping noisily. He announced to the room, “Well, I think that’ll be the last drink for me tonight.”
At the noisy intrusion, the patrons glanced over before slouching back over their drinks. Taking his friend’s cue, Skye pushed his empty plate away, dropped some coins onto the table, and stood up. When his friend drunkenly stood and swayed, Skye draped his friend’s arm over his shoulders and half-carried, half-led Dane to the tavern door and outside into the empty street.
Almost to the door, he muttered under his breath. “You play this part too well.”
Dane staggered into him and belched in his ear. Grimacing at the foul odor, he stuck an elbow into his friend’s ribs in retaliation.
Once outside and a few buildings away from the tavern, they ended the charade and broke apart. Skye and Dane both leaned against the aged building to wait for Thanel and Timosy. He’d barely gotten comfortable before the two strolled over.
Thanel, the more outspoken of the two, spoke up. “What was that about? You’re no more drunk than I.”
When Dane looked at him to explain, Skye dropped his head back against the wall and grunted. “Did you see the last person enter shortly before we left, the one with the cloak?”
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When they both gave a quick nod, he explained, “For a short moment, I saw her look over in my direction. Her eyes reflected the light.”
Stunned, Thanel and Timosy glanced at each other, then looked back at Skye. The implication was staggering. When Skye only crossed his arms across his chest, they turned to Dane for confirmation, who shrugged.
Timosy broke the silence this time. “Are you saying the woman has gold eyes? But…But that is a death sentence. We only take as slaves the Kurites that have no magical abilities. We capture and kill the others after each battle.” Timosy glanced around at his friends in confusion. When no one said anything, he asked no one in particular, “What does this mean?”
“I do not know, but we’re going to find out. It is possible the woman is a merchant. However, I believe she is more than a mere merchant. Her actions make me suspicious.” He waved his hand toward his head, signifying the hood the woman had kept in place while inside.
Thanel spat on the ground. “Being a merchant is as likely as a woman not complaining. What do you want us to do?”
Skye thought for a moment, drumming his fingers against the crusty wall. Disregarding the dirt rubbing against his fingertips. “Dane and I will take the north side of this street while you both take the south. If she does not come out in the next two hours, then we can assume she’s paid for a night in one of the upper chambers. My instincts tell me she’ll leave and soon. Follow her, but do not get too close. Try not to lose her. Remember to stay where we can see each other.”
Thanel and Timosy left without a sound, heading for the outskirts of the dock market. There were enough people spilling into the streets to make them less conspicuous. Dane followed him to a nearby alley for a better view of the tavern. With the discipline they had learned during their training, they waited, the filthy alleyway hiding them from prying eyes.
When she did exit the alehouse, they almost missed her, the dark cloak shrouding her in shadows. By sheer luck, a tavern door edged open, catching her in a pool of dim, yellow light. He turned his head and saw Dane watching her progress.
She slipped past their lookout. Despite himself, Skye was impressed with her stealth. He’d heard the Kurites had both men and women fighting in their battles. But his upbringing had led him to erroneously discard the information imparted by his trainers. He didn’t believe women had the capacity for battle or intrigue. Pyranni women were secluded within the home until they married a man in their class. Paid tutors educated them within the home, unlike the boys. The male children were sent to large academies.
He knew even less about girls than most men because he’d not grown up with a sister. Two years ago, his father arranged a marriage with a woman from a nearby city. She was a noble, and he had yet to meet her. Skye knew nothing else of the woman and he had never thought to ask. Whenever he thought of the coming marriage, Skye became uncomfortable with the idea. He preferred life in the barracks, having his needs met through one of the joining Houses dealing in such commodities.
Mentally cursing himself for his distraction from the task at hand, Skye made sure they had escaped discovery. Although he’d glimpsed the woman’s face in the tavern, he no longer doubted her femininity after studying her movements. She was stealthy, but she couldn’t hide the grace in each step.
They both followed the cloaked woman to the outskirts of the city. Knowing she couldn’t leave the city with the gate closed for the night, they put more space between them and their quarry. With difficulty because she was one dark shadow among many, Skye kept her in his line of sight.
The woman turned, looking straight at them. The suddenness startled him, and Skye blinked. When he opened his eyes again, she was gone, vanished. Leaving caution to the wind, he rushed to where he’d last seen her and swept the area for any signs of her. He glanced over to where his friends stood. Thanel’s hand was on his knife while Timosy was trying to look in every direction at once. Dane merely looked disgruntled at having been bested.
Knowing intuitively the Kurite was no longer in the vicinity, he said, “Now we know she’s a spy.” Shaking his head at having lost the woman, he started trudging in the direction of the barracks. After a few steps, he heard his friends join him.
A few streets over from the wall, he said, “I think I’ll stop by the library as soon as we complete tomorrow’s training. There must be information on the golden-eyed sorcerers. I might even find information about the large, black cats.” Still walking, he sent his friends an ironic smile. “Besides, there is nothing we could have done to stop her. She had to have used magic to vanish right before our eyes.”
All four of them made a sign with their left hand to ward off evil. He continued talking after a few long-legged strides. “If we are to meet them on the battlefield, I refuse to go into battle with no idea what I’m fighting.”
When they were almost to their barracks, Dane said, “Imagine what she could have gleaned if she can vanish at will.” Skye remembered what Dane had told him about the plans for the next battle.
Surprisingly, it was Timosy who observed, “But if she can be invisible, she should have stayed invisible. The more people who see you, the higher the probability you are caught. No matter your skills. And that makes me wonder what is going on.”
When they reached the main hall, they all turned to look at each other. Dane decided for everyone and said, “We have to move our belongings to the other barrack and find out our battalion. Why don’t we sleep on it and decide what it means when we can next get a moment to ourselves. I’ll see you in the morning. May the God grant you restful sleep.” With that age-old farewell, he stalked off. Making similar farewells, Skye and his two friends went to their rooms.
When he reached his, Skye sat down on the bed and went through every fact he’d garnered in his search on the Kurites. Although captured by the Pyranni warriors, the slaves withheld any information concerning their culture, willing to die to keep their secrets. Averse to losing their slave labor, torturing the Kurites had long since lost favor among the nobility. As such, they knew little about the Kurite way of life.
In frustration, he jumped up and paced the small room. Because the dimensions were as familiar to him as his own hand, Skye didn’t bother lighting a candle in the pitch-black room.
The hair rose on the back of his neck. Those gold eyes. He’d always heard descriptions, but before tonight, he never believed the stories told by warriors. Unlike his fellow warriors, he believed that all Kurites were able to use evil magic. They all worshiped the same heathen god, after all. How could they not use magic? Even now Skye could picture those eyes as they floated eerily in the darkness of the hooded cloak. It was as if the sight was branded in his memory. Fighting off the slight chill crawling across his skin, he shook his head to discard the vision, turning instead to what little he knew.
Every Kurite he’d seen had the palest blue eyes. Both men and women wore a thin veil during the day as they went about their duties. Because of the constraint of their abilities to walk outside, Kurites made excellent house servants. Their eerie eyes often caused discomfort for their owners, thus they were relegated to the lowest household tasks, ordered to remain out of sight. His father had owned several after the victory of one battle. His mother had informed him of her distrust of the Kurites, saying she wanted no such person on the property. His father had refused to acknowledge her displeasure.
His mother had made life within the house unbearable for everyone. Although she held no power in the decisions of the home, she showed her anger in other ways. For weeks, his father received the silent treatment while his mother screamed at everyone else. Then she changed tactics. She complained at the top of her lungs about everything, from the food and clothes to the arrangement of the furniture. She had then commanded the rearrangement of all the furniture, sometimes moving furniture to different rooms and floors. When her actions didn’t work to change his mind, she ordered meals of such poor quality, no one in the household knew what to expect. One memorable day, they had had soup for breakfast and eggs for dinner.
After weeks of coming home to a house in complete disarray, with belongings everywhere and meals at the wrong time of day, his father had relented. His father sold them to another noble. Remembering the disagreement with a slight smile, Skye felt some of the tension leave his body. Finally, his mind acknowledged his exhaustion. He stripped out of his clothes and fell into bed.